


On the subject of Dementors

by Nantai



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood Rites, Dementors, Sumerian gods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 10:29:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11273628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nantai/pseuds/Nantai
Summary: Where did the Dementors come from? What is their purpose? Follow Ekrizdis in his quest for power and find answers to these questions! Guest starring: Ereshkigal and Gir-unug-gal - NC-17 rating, proceed with care!





	On the subject of Dementors

**Author's Note:**

> This plotbunny jumped at me two days ago and insisted on being written right away. Multiple hours later I was unable to look straight but finished this and send it to my beta viv-heart, as always ;) R&R!  
> Warnings: Mentioned torture, murder, rape, cruel experiments on humans and Dementors; depicted blood rites, murder and torture

**On the subject of Dementors**

When Ekrizdis the Dark fled from Swedish Finland he took all his knowledge on parchments and in books with him.

Flying over the ocean, without a broom, although it was rather uncomfortable, he spotted a small island. Nothing seemed to live on it, not even plants and Ekrizdis felt its dark aura ghosting over his skin.

A grimace that was supposed to be a smile cracked his thin lips open and he allowed himself to cackle. He finally had found a home fitting his purposes. Feeling for the small purse at his belt, which contained his whole library, he landed on the shore.

Ekrizdis took his ritual dagger from its belt sheath and started drawing symbols on the stones. The dagger cut through them like butter and when the last line was finished Ekrizdis cut his left forearm open, allowing the blood to pool around his bare feet.

" _Implete_!" he called with an imperious voice that didn't match his frail build. While Ekrizdis had never cared for his body much, the last years of living in hunger had made him thin like a stick. But now he was free from the oppression of the Swedish kings and the Scandinavian Thing Council and could practice all those spells they deemed too dangerous.

During his musings of freedom the ground had begun to tremble and break open. A black building rose from it, gleaming in the early afternoon sun. When the ground stopped trembling the ornament on the stones as well as the blood vanished. Satisfied Ekrizdis healed the cut on his arm wand- and voicelessly, and stepped over the place where just minutes ago he had cut the ancient spell in the stones.

When Ekrizdis stepped into the entrance hall of his new home he thought he heard the walls themselves whisper. " _Azkaban_ " seemed to echo from every corner of the cold and dark castle and the dark wizard smiled again.

"So mote it be," he whispered back and the castle seemed to settle around him. His ritual had asked the ground for a fortress and it seemed the dark aura of the island had materialised in it. 'All the better,' Ekrizdis thought. 'I won't have to waste energy calling ancient spirits if they are already here.'

Having finished the spells that would shield him from being found on wizarding and muggle maps, Ekrizdis decided to add a siren spell that would lure sailors to the shore. For many of his spells he would need human sacrifices and using sailors was probably the only way if he wanted to make sure to survive. After his latest experiments with summoning souls from the realms of the dead he was wanted all through Europe and he didn't want to travel to Asia or Africa every time he needed new sacrifices.

Suddenly Ekrizdis was glad that he had had to starve in the last months, otherwise his body probably wouldn't survive the wait until a boat found Azkaban.

* * *

Fifteen months later

Ekrizdis watched through a spy-hole while the old sailor prepared his pipe and the younger one, probably his son, paced in front of the lit hearth. The boats were good fire wood once he had dried them with a spell, always careful not to burn them in the process.

Last night Ekrizdis had finally finished the translation of a spell from Sumerian and he was eager to try it out. When the wards had informed him of the timely arrival of the sailors he had smiled brightly. (A truly ghastly sight on his face.)

Now the older sailor spoke up. "Stop pacing son! The hearth is lit. I am sure our host will welcome us soon!" How right he was and what a welcome it would be!

"I know, father. That is what scares me. This castle is out in the nowhere and still he has wood to light this huge hearth. I never heard of an island in this part of the North Sea and an old captain told me a story of a cursed island which was used as prison for the worst of the worst back in the time of the Vikings!" the young man ranted and Ekrizdis listened with interest. If that story was true it would explain the castle's eagerness for blood and dark magic. He decided that he had to know more.

Ekrizdis stepped through the door and didn't even try to smile, as he didn't want to frighten the boy. Yet.

"Tervetuloa! I am sorry you had to wait, but my legs aren't what they once were. May I offer you some mead?" The men nodded and Ekrizdis served the mead in earthenware cups. After they each had taken a few sips and the young man had settled at the table as well the dark wizard decided to break the silence.

"What are your names if I may ask?"

"I am Tuomas and that is my grand-son Ville," the old sailor replied. "Do you mind to give me light?" Ekrizdis slowly stood up, playing the old, weak man and went to the hearth to collect a splint. He knew most muggles feared wizards and he needed answers first.

Settling back in his chair Ekrizdis continued to talk. "My name is Ekrizdis. I heard you talking, young Ville. I am curious about that cursed island, tell me more!"

The sailors exchanged a look and the older shrugged, prompting the younger to speak up.  
"Thousand years ago there was an island out in the ocean were the Vikings brought those who were convicted of the vilest of crimes: murder, rape and blasphemy. They were left on the island to die, but legend has it that their spirits never left for Hel. No one was able to flee from the island, no one was able to live there. They died slow deaths and had no burial to lead their souls on," Ville took a gulp from his cup and Ekrizdis watched him in contemplation.

"What happened to the trapped souls?" he asked drinking from his mead as well, his body long used to the poison in it.

"Their negativity killed every life that set foot on the island and even the plants around it in the ocean withered."

After some more mead the young sailor started to sway in his seat and the older one nodded off. When both were fast asleep Ekrizdis levitated them to their cells, for once using his wand to save his magic for the ritual at night.

He returned to the entrance hall and started drawing signs on the floor. His wand left lines glinting ember-red and his dagger cut open the floor as neatly as it had the stone at his arrival. Working simultaneously for greater strength of the spell Ekrizdis walked over the ground hunched over like an ancient one.

Three hours later the Circle of Kurnugia was nearly complete. Before he could close the Circle, Ekrizdis had to levitate and wake the sacrifices inside, what was supposed to be the tricky part. Not for him though, as he was an accomplished wizard after all, not some Sumerian shaman without any real control over his power.

He got both sailors out of their cells and inside the Circle without any problems, just as expected. He woke them with a quick " _Evigilare_ " and closed the Circle while they came to their senses.

"What are you doing man!" the young sailor demanded to know and now Ekrizdis smiled.

"You are on the cursed island and I intend to use its powers to try something new tonight. If you would stay calm? I need to concentrate," Ekrizdis told him crisply and returned to the parchment in his hands. When he was sure he remember everything correctly he started to chant the Sumerian words.

_"I, Ekrizdis the Dark, ask you to take these souls,_  
 _Ereshkigal goddess of Kur!_  
 _Accept my gift for your husband Gir-unug-ga_ l."  
  
The two men started to scream and wither in agony, blood pouring from many tiny gashes in their bodies. Ekrizdis felt the spirits of Azkaban flowing into the spell, eager for the blood.

_"Nothing surpasses your terrific beauty  
and the merciless fairness of his wars and plagues!"_

The younger sailor started to beg. "Please, I have wife and children, they need me to survive the winter!" But Ekrizdis ignored him, he was too deep in the magical working to be disturbed by a human now.

_"Accept these souls into your realm_  
 _but leave the bodies for me to use,_  
 _let me feed them like I would my own children!_  
 _Let me protect them like I would my own children!_  
 _They shall feast on the souls of my enemies,_  
 _they shall keep those souls from polluting your realm."_  
  
He finished the chant, the words falling from his tongue easily, supported by his magic and the power of Azkaban, Ekrizdis looked at the bodies in the Circle. They had lost every ounce of blood they had ever had and had the contorted faces of torture deaths.

Just when the wizard thought the ritual hadn't worked, he suddenly heard a voice that sounded like the wailing of every dying person ever and felt clammy like a deep cave. "You did well little human. For more than thousand years nobody sacrificed to me and I want to reward you for your service. I will grant your wish for Balu-Shi, but be warned, if you don't feed them they will feed of you!"

A voice as dry as desert winds and as biting hot as fire, sounding like the war-cry of millions added "Balu-Shi are for as long as there are souls, mortal. Do never forget that. You can't kill them. If you try to send them to us we will not grant you death, even while your flesh rots and your bones mould away."

Ekrizdis was kneeling on the floor, bent forward, his eyes shut tightly and his ears covered with his hands. These voices weren't for mortals to hear.

"I will remember the rules for as long as I live, great goddess Ereshkigal, great god Gir-unug-gal! But if you don't mind me asking, what happens when I am dead? What if other people try to send the Balu-Shi to your realm?" he asked, quivering with fear for the first time in his life.

The gods didn't answer for a moment and when they did it was Gir-unug-gal. "You will write down the rules so your people will find them when they come here. Make sure they understand that we don't tolerate bargaining. We won't take back the Balu-Shi. Ever."

"Yes, my Lord," Ekrizdis answered and he felt the fading presence of the gods. When he looked up, wiping the sweat from his face, he saw two figures hovering over the floor where the Circle was fading as well.

They wore black cloaks with hoods that shadowed their faces completely. Ekrizdis estimated them to be about ten feet tall and he was pretty sure that the cold he felt now wasn't from Azkaban or its spirits but from the Balu-Shi. Shivering he stood up and prayed that they would stay away from him.

The texts had been clear on their description of the reaction the Balu-Shi evoked from humans and Ekrizdis preferred to keep his few happy thoughts and his soul. He led the Balu-Shi to the dungeon.

"This will be your new home. You can feed on whomever I bring in here, but you are only allowed to eat his soul if I say so. If you don't follow that order I will find a way to kill you," Ekrizdis said with vigour. The Sumerian texts had been pretty clear about that part, one could starve a Balu-Shi until he disintegrated. But they also stated that it was extremely difficult to keep them from leaving their prison for the half century it needed.

* * *

By the time Ekrizdis died after an unnaturally long life he had gathered fifty Balu-Shi and found time to experiment with them.

They bred when he tortured especially cruelly (his chimaera experiments had gone wrong quite often) and each instance produced one more.  
They could feed on one another if they had to and therefore had to be kept alone if they were to die.

They could die. Not in the traditional sense, but if they were kept from food for fourteen years they started to disintegrate. The process could be stopped up to the last day, but they were very weak afterwards and would need to feed on an army to return to their former strength. After forty-nine years exactly they were gone.

Ekrizdis wrote it all down and put it in his library, but when the investigators arrived they burned the library down so nobody could ever again use magic that dark.

But they hadn't known that Ekrizdis had been ordered to write down what he knew by the Sumerian gods, just like others before him. This time the gods were about, curious how the mortals would react to this place of torture and death.

Ereshkigal took the Sumerian texts and the translation and her husband Gir-unug-gal took the protocols of the experiments and their results. They had seen a building in the south of the isles known as Britain to the mortals, where a gate to Kur and every other afterlife stood. The gods brought the texts there, knowing that the mortals would find them when they were ready. They promised to be there when the last of their creations left and mortals would forget how to create them.

It should be another 449 years before the last Balu-Shi left this world.

It should be on the exact day they were created thousands of years ago that the process of destroying the amortals would begin and Ereshkigal and Gir-unug-gal swore to watch every minute of it, so they could make sure that it truly was the last time this world saw Balu-Shi.

Even 6000 years after their creation the Balu-Shi were still not successful in their mission to teach the humans to live according to the rules the gods gave them and therefore had to go.

We know the Balu-Shi as Dementors. They were devices send by the gods to punish humans who didn't follow their rules. It was a great honour to become Balu-Shi, because it meant that you were virtuous and your soul was allowed to live as an immortal among the gods.

But the Balu-Shi were mindless and when the gods were busy in other parts of the world they feasted on everyone and not just the sinners. Power-hungry people got their loyalty by promising as many souls as a Balu-Shi wanted and not just the few the gods deemed appropriate.

But it was not for the gods to remove their creations, for they had made them to vanish on their own when there was no human to punish anymore.

They never did vanish on their own.


End file.
